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4 



SOTW^E PERSONAL 



I^emif^iseepees of ^rmy life. 



A PAPER 



Read before the Missouri Commaiulery 



MILITARY ORDER 



Loyal I^egioii of the United ;5tates 



M^AKCH 5XH, 1887. 



BY COMPANION 



EVERKTT W. PaXTISON, 



Late Captain 2d Massachusetts Vol. Infantry. 



ST. LOUIS: 

Smith .V Owens PRiNjiNti Co. 
1887. 



Av 
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Some Personal Reminiscences of Army Life. 

A PAPER 

read before the missouri commandery of the military 
Order of the Loyal Legion, 

BY COMPANION 

EVEREXX W. F'ATXISON, 

Captain Second Mass. hifantry. 



The attack on the Sixth Massachusetts at Baltimore, 
was an event of supreme importance in connection with 
the secession movement. Until that hour multitudes at 
the North had refused to be convinced that the conflict 
was inevitable, and few persons of mature years had 
considered the possibility of being personally called 
upon to bear arms. Bat the tidings of violence in the 
streets of Baltimore as they were flashed over the land, 
brought to every mind a conviction not only that war 
had actually commenced, but that at this juncture there 
rested upon each citizen a duty to liis country which 
could only be discharged by personal service. Nowhere 
was the excitement more intense than in that city of 
central Massachusetts in which I was then residing. 
Many of lier citizens were in the ranks of the famous 
Sixth ; and while we waited with uncertainty for the list 
of casualities, not knowing what families would be 
plunged into mourning, the feeling grew and deepened. 
No battle in after years, with its long list of dead,, 
wounded and missing, created so profound an impression 
as this comparatively bloodless affair. 



— 2 — 

The call for three years troops which soon followed 
this event, the enthusiastic response of the old Bay State 
to that call, the promptness with which regiment after 
regiment was raised, equipped and sent to the field, are 
matters of history. I was then just twenty-two years of 
age, and partook of the prevalent enthusiasm with all 
the ardor of youth. My determination to enter the 
service was at once formed. But preliminary to putting 
this resolution into effect, I had a difficulty to remove as 
to which I experienced no little misgiving. My father 
was getting to be an old man. His affection for his 
children was deep and fervent. G-rave doubts filled my 
mind whether he would willingly consent that his oldest 
boy should encounter the hardships and risks of war. 
It is true I was of age, and could have gone without his 
consent. But our relations had been too close and inti- 
mate, and my respect and veneration for him was too 
great, to permit my taking such a step without his ap- 
probation. At last I mustered up courage to broach the 
subject, and with no little hesitation and tremulousness 
made known my intention. His answer showed the true 
Anglo-Saxon spirit. " I should be ashamed of you," he 
said, " if you did not go." 

It was this same element in his character which led 
him at a later period of the war, after the surgeon had 
reported that my younger brother was physically unfit- 
ted for service in the field, to offer the usual bounty to 
any one who would go in his stead, and in addition 
thereto to care for the family of such substitute during 
his term of service. The same stern and determined spirit 
showed itself in that 3^ounger son. He would not remain 
at home, notwithstanding the warnings of physicians, 
but entered the army at 18 as a private soldier, and re- 
mained in it, without losing a day from active service, 
until the last gun had been fired. 

In April and May, 1861, several Massachusetts regi- 
ments were in process of formation, among them one in 



— 3 — 

my own city, wliicli was afterwards mustered into the 
service as the Fifteenth. There was one feature in this 
organization, however, common to most regiments in 
our service, wliicli was contrary to my notions of military 
matters. It was formed on the militia plan. A number 
of men constituting a company elected their officers. 
Several comjDanies combined to form a regiment, and these 
elected the field officers. It seemed to me imj^ossible 
that the requisite discipline could be maintained by offi- 
cers thus selected. And though I was offered a commis- 
sion in the Fifteenth, I preferred to wait. The time was 
not wasted, as a portion of every day and night was 
given to drilling under a drill-master hired for that pur 
pose. About the middle of May I heard that a regiment 
was being raised in Boston, the Colonel and Lieutenant 
Colonel of which were graduates of the military academy, 
had both seen actual service, and in which it was declared 
that the strict discipline of the regular army was to 
obtain. This was what I was looking for. I took the 
train for Boston, and went out to the camp. I found one of 
the officers — Capt. A. B. Underwood, who was afterwards, 
while Colonel of the the Thirty-third Massachusetts, 
wounded at Missionary Ridge, and who before the close 
of the war became a Brigadier General. Finding that I 
had an idea of enlisting, he promised that if I would en- 
ter his company he would give me the position of First 
Sergeant. I accepted it, signed his roll, returned to my 
home to bid good- by to parents, brother and sisters, and 
next day reported at camp for duty. 

This regiment was the one which afterwards became 
famous as the Second Massachusetts Infantry. On the 
29th of April, five days before the President issued his 
call for three-j^ear troops, the Lieutenant Colonel and 
Major of this regiment had induced the Secretary of 
War to sign a paper agreeing to receive into the service 
of the United States for three years, a regiment which 
Col. Geo. H. Gordon was then raising. It thus happened 



that this regiment was the first in the United States to be 
organized for a three years campaign. It did not obtain 
the number " One," because the regiment of Massachu- 
setts militia which held that number also went into the 
service. But it was in fact first in point of time. 

The ten companies of the regiment were soon raised, 
and by the 20th of May all were in camp at Brook Farm 
in West Roxbury, the place immortalized by the author 
of Blythedale Romance. " On the gently sloping hill- 
side in the wide pasture," which Hawthorne describes, 
we pitched our tents. And here we remained until July 
8th. The days were spent in unceasing drill and in the 
performance of every military duty and observance 
which would be required in active service in the field. I 
find from a letter written on the 6th of June,^^ that the 
daily routine of life was as follows : Up at quarter 
of five ; drill until half past six ; breakfast at seven ; 
guard mounting at quarter before eight ; drill again at 
half-past eight until half-past ten ; drill again at half- 
past eleven until half-past twelve ; dinner at one ; drill 
at half-past three for two hours ; dress parad.e at half- 
past six; supper at seven; tattoo and roll-call at nine; 
taps and sleep at half-past nine. After such a day's 
work as that, it may well be imagined that I was ready 
for sleep, and lost no time in getting into my blankets. 
It was a pretty severe life for a young man who had never 
known what work was, and whose most arduous tasks 
had been in the school-room or study. It had its ad- 
vantages, however. For, considering that this was almost 
my first absence from home, I might have had a severe 
attack of home-sickness if there had been any time for it. 

In the same letter I find a description of my accom- 
modations. They seemed scant and hard enough to me 
then, although they were luxurious when compared with 
later experiences. " The accommodations of soldier life 

=•■ This paper is made up almost entirely from the contents of my letters written 
home during the first two years of my army life. E. W. P. 



— 5 — 

are not of the best," I write. " I have after a week and 
a half of eifort succeeded in obtaining a table. Not a 
chair, or a camp-stool or anything but a small box ; and 
that is one that one of my company left in here for a day 
or two. The rain is pattering down on my tent, but doesn't 
€omein m?^c7^. * * '^ I mess with the four under sergeants 
— five in a tent. The privates mess twelve in a tent. I 
have my meals alone, however." 

On the 8th of July we marched into Boston, whence 
we took cars for the west. An incident occurred 
in connection with our departure which illustrates 
how little, even at that late date, it being then nearly 
three months after the attack on Sumter, people real- 
lized that the war was a terrible reality. As the men 
were falling in preparatory to the marcli from the Com- 
mon to the depot, one good mother in Israel, gazing 
earnestly in the face of the Colonel, said ; " We look 
to you. Col. Gordon, to bring all of these young men 
back in safety to their homes." Safety ! That was not 
exactly what those young men were going after just then. 
Certain it is, if, in those many hard-fought fields which 
made the following years glorious, there was any place 
which safety had utterly abandoned, the Second Massa- 
chusetts always found that spot. 

The morning of the 9tli of July found us in New York. 
Never shall I forget that march down Broadway ; that 
magnificent regiment, with clean new uniforms, dark 
blue coats and light blue trousers, we having from the 
first adopted the regulation uniform, the ranks full, 1035 
men in line, every man wearing white gloves, every 
musket and article of equipment as bright and neat as 
constant rubbing could make it ; the officers in full dress 
uniforms with chapeaux and epaulettes, and the field 
with gayly caparisoned horses. The men showed the 
eff'ects of their six weeks drill and training. In precision 
of marching and in soldierly bearing few commands 
superior to it have ever been seen on the streets of New 



— 6 — 

York. Immense crowds thronged tlie sidewalks, hung 
from the lamp-posts, filled the windows of the stores and 
the balconies of the hotels. The new call " Hi ! hi ! hi !'^ 
had just come into fashion, and as the head of the regi- 
ment approached each square it was taken up by the 
crowd, and was passed from block to block and repeated 
from thousands of throats, until the last file closer had 
disappeared. It was such an ovation as men seldom re- 
ceive. Every eye sparkled, every heart beat proudly, 
and every step was firmer for it. 

We left New York at night, and when the drums beat 
the assembly, the place where the companies had to fall 
in was pitcli dark. Yet to the wonderment of the throng 
which pressed close up to our sentries, every first ser- 
geant called the roll of his men without the slightest hesi- 
tation, and called it correctly too. For in our training 
camp the first sergeants had been early taught to dis- 
pense with the roll-book ; it being required of each that 
he should be able to call the roll of his company under 
any circumstances, in darkness or storm, in camp or on 
the march, without the aid of book or paper. There was 
not a first sergeant in the regiment who could not, on the 
darkest night, make up his detail for guard or picket 
duty without missing a man. 

We had been assigned to Patterson's command, who 
was then operating near Winchester, with Johnson op- 
posing him. We joined this command at Martinsburg 
on the 12th of July. Its movements, or rather non- 
movements, up to the time of the first battle of Bull Run,, 
and the subsequent melting away of that army, which 
was composed mostly of three months men — the settling 
down by three-years regiments which remained to daily 
drill and discipline, and to the earnest purpose of form- 
ing an army which should on future fields show its 
metal, are all matters of liistory. I shall refer to them only 
as they connect themselves with my own experiences 
and those of the command to which I was attached. 



— 7 — 

Most of tlie time between the defeat at Bull Run and 
that at Ball's Bluff our regiment spent at a little insig- 
nifficant place in Maryland, with a name which seems to 
have been conferred upon it with a special view to its 
occupancy by troops, Darnstown ; and there day after 
day we went through our tedious evolutions— squad drill, 
company drill, battalion drill, brigade drill. We drilled 
with knapsacks and without knapsacks— in warm 
weather and in cold weather — in rain and cloud and sun- 
shine alike. Oh ! the volleys of oaths that those hills 
heard ! For our regimental officers believed in the virtue 
of swearing ; and while the Colonel damned the subor- 
dinate officers, the Lieutenant Colonel damned the men. 
There was a true impartiality about this damning that 
could but excite our admiration, audit is needless to say 
that we would never have learned the various evolutions 
without it. For you know that drilling and swearing 
have always gone together from the time when that cele- 
brated army was in Flanders. 

This camp at Darnstown illustrates one of the uncer- 
tainties of military life— that uncertainty which, to my 
mind, is one of its greatest charms. We marched into a 
field by the road-side near that classic village on the 30th 
of August. I find from a letter written on the 12th of 
the next month, that on that August day our officers were 
so confident that the halt made there was only tempor- 
ary, they did not for several hours permit us to pitch our 
tents. About noon, however, the order came, and the 
tents went up, for a single night, as was supposed. Yet 
there we were on September 12th, and there we remained 
for nearly six weeks after the latter date. I repeat, this 
very uncertainty, was one of the great charms of a sol- 
dier's life. We knew what the present offered us. But 
into the future we could not look, not even so far as a 
single hour. That which appeared to be the most tem- 
porary and evanescent, was not infrequently, the most 



permanent. That which we expected would endure, was 
often most unceremoniously and suddenly terminated. 

Thus, after we had gone into winter quarters at 
Frederick, and the nice warm huts had been built, with 
their cheerful fireplaces at the upper end, some one in 
authority away up the line took it into his head on the 
4th of January — the very coldest part of the winter — to 
issue an order that we should cook two days' rations and 
hold ourselves in readiness to march. This order was 
received on the 5th, and on the 12th we were still under 
marching orders, and were still keeping our two daj^s' 
rations cooked and in readiness. On the 80th of January, 
the same state of things continued, and the movement 
was finally made on the 27th of February, just fifty- three 
days from the time it was first received. 

While camping at Darnstown, an incident occurred 
which for a time threatened serious consequences, but 
which was really of little account except as it showed 
how far apart, in the matter of discipline, were regiments 
from the same state. A private soldier in ours had been 
sentenced by court martial to be tied up one hour a day 
for three successive days. On the first day the men of the 
Twelfth Massachusetts, the camp of which adjoined ours, 
saw the man undergoing his sentence. Immediately the 
cry was raised : "Cut him down ! cut him down !" and in an 
instant our streets were full of excited men of the Twelfth, 
who were going to release that fellow at all hazards. They 
little knew, however, with what stuff they were dealing. 
The regimental guard was quickly turned out and stood 
quietly awaiting the rush. But the rush didn't come. The 
rescuers glared at the guard a few moments, and then 
permitted their officers to coax them back to their 
camp. But during that afternoon, both the Colonel of the 
Twelfth, and Major General Banks, commanding the 
corps, endeavored to induce our Colonel to liave the sen- 
tence on the succeeding days carried out in some retired 
spot where its execution could not be seen. And when 



— 9 — 

this was refused, since it did not come in tlie form of an 
order from the General commanding, Col. Webster, 
fearful that he could not control his men, on both days 
took his regiment away off to a distant held, and kept 
them on battalion drill during the entire time the man 
was undergoing his punishment. 

I have already indicated that I was an admirer of 
military discipline.' That of the Second Massachusetts 
was strict, almost rigorous, and was carried into the 
smallest details. The intercourse between officers and 
men was limited to that which was official. While I was 
first sergeant I was in a company whose Captain was the 
brother-in-law of my most intimate friend. One of the 
other Captains and one of the Lieutenants in the regi- 
ment had been schoolmates with me, where our intimacy 
had been more than usually close. Yet we never recog- 
nized each other, except officially, until I was promoted 
to the line; and on occasions when business called me to 
my Captain's tent I never sat down, but invariably stood 
with hat off and at attention till the business which took 
me there was transacted. When I received my commis- 
sion I went to my former quarters and bid good-bye to 
luy fellow sergeants, with whom I had been tenting for 
nine months. And from that time all social intercourse 
between us ceased until some of them were in turn pro- 
moted. An incident which partook somewhat of the 
ludicrous will illustrate the extent to which this observ- 
ance of the punctilliousness of military etiquette was 
carried. One warm day after a prolonged spell of drill- 
ing, the Captain ordered a rest. All the non-commis- 
sioned officers and privates threw themselves upon the 
ground. The Captain approached me to give some direc- 
tions, and as I made a movement to arise and occupy 
the position of attention, he said : "Never mind. Sergeant, 
about rising; I have only a word to say to you." Un- 
luckily at that moment the Colonel appeared in sight, 
mounting a ridge which had concealed his approach. He 



— 10 — 

rode lip to the company, and said: "Captain, is your 
sergeant sick?" The Captain salated and responded in 
the negative. "Yon will report to your tent under ar- 
rest," he said to the Captain. Then looking around and 
seeing that there was no other officer with the company, 
he turned to me and said : "Sergeant, drill this company," 
and rode off without another word. 

I am aware that this Tnay seem to be a needless marti- 
netism. And so it doubtless appeared to us at the time. 
But there can be no question that it was this insist- 
ance upon the most rigid discipline at all times and on 
all occasions in trifles as well as in important matters, 
which made that regiment one which every General 
was glad to have in his command, one which could be 
relied upon in any case, be the emergency ever so grave. 

While we were in winter quarters at Frederick, an 
enterprising individual came along peddling stationery. 
He had procured what purported to be a sketch of our 
encampment, and had lithographed it for the letter heads 
and the backs of the envelopes. When our Colonel looked 
at the picture great was his indignation. The artist, im- 
pressed probably with the idea that the scene would be 
monotonous if all the sentries had their muskets at a 
carry, had represented one of them standing in most 
unsoldier-like ease, his arm leaning on the muzzle while 
the butt of his piece rested on the ground. The engrav- 
ing was, of course, " from a sketch taken on the spot." 
But " the spot " was in the artist's studio, and not in the 
vicinity of our camp. One thing is certain, it would not 
have been well for any man on guard duty in that camp 
to have been caught in the position occupied by the 
sentry in the picture. 

A letter written home about this time contains a 
question which forcibly recalls one of the many delu- 
sions and false reports which in those days were so con- 
stantly floating about in the army and at home. " What 
do they think at the North of Jeff Davis' death ? " I 



— 11 — 

write. " What effect do they think it will liave on the 
war ? " 

While at Frederick I received my commission as Sec- 
ond Lieutenant, and was assigned to Company E. I find 
in one of my letters the following description of my Cap- 
tain, which, as I omit names, there can be no indelicacy 
in reproducing. '' Who is that long slim man on the 
left hand bed ? " you ask. "He is rather slim both in 
face and limb. He has a very heavy beard but so ar- 
ranges his hair as to give a feminine cast to his coun- 
tenance. His words of command are given in a soprano 
tone, and are pitched in the key of E ; but when he con- 
verses this is harshened into a grumbling tone. You 
will observe at the foot of his bed a bottle, not round 
and black, but square and of light glass. Yes I am sorry 
to say he is very dissipated — though on the compara- 
tively harmless drink of Cod Liver Oil. Cod Liver Oil 
is his morning solace, the companion of his meals, and 
ere he goes to bed he drowns in its mellifiuous, slippery 
waves all the cares of the day. Verily he drinketh much 
cod liver oil. That is my Captain ; the best Captain and 
most ardent lover of a military life in the whole line. 
His company have the utmost confidence in him, and he 
is always ready to swear by his company. He is a man 
of fine talents, a great reader and an author of no mean 
pretensions, a member of a family well known in the 
annals of the country, and a descendant of one who has 
occupied the President's chair. With all his womanish 
ways and looks he is ever ready for a fight, and is as 
cool in the midst of carnage as when draining a glass of 
his favorite cod liver oil," 

As I look back upon my relations with my Captain, 
many pleasant reminiscences come to my mind. He was 
a great reader, and his reading took a wide range. He 
remembered, too, whatever he read, and could repeat 
page after page from many authors. Many an hour has 
been thus beguiled of its tediousness. On more than one 



— 12 — 

occasion wlien in bivouac, and when we have been driven 
by the cold rains of late autumn to spend our hours in 
bed in order to keep warm, we have lain snugly wrapt 
up in our woolen blankets with rubber blanket over all, 
and while the rain pattered on our heads and the gusts 
of wind whirled the smoke from a sputtering fire in our 
faces and filled our eyes with involuntary tears, the Cap- 
tain would repeat whole pages from Bigiow papers, or 
from Dickens, or some other equally entertaining writer, 
until 1 would utterly forget the little discomforts and an- 
noyances which would otherwise have made life mis- 
erable. 

I call to mind one debt 1 owe him which was of a 
more substantial kind. As we were going into the bat- 
tle of Cedar Mountain — an affair which we plainly 
foresaw was to be a bloody one — each committed to the 
other sundry arrangements to be carried out in case of 
casualty to either. Among other things he mentioned 
that he was expecting a box from home. "If I get 
knocked over," he said, " I want you to enjoy the con- 
tents. Take them and use them as if they were your 
own." When the action was over the poor fellow was 
badly wounded and in the hands of the enemy. It was 
many a long day before we met again. But the box 
came to hand in due time. It arrived just at the end of 
Pope's celebrated retreat from the Rappahannock, dur^ 
ing a great portion of which we had been on half rations, 
and the balance of the time on no rations at all. The 
box was filled with the best things, liquid and solid, 
(including cod liver oil,) that Boston could produce and 
that loving care could provide ; and the poor fellow for 
whom they w^ere intended was luxuriating in the delica- 
cies which were served out in Libby Prison. I was too old 
a soldier, however, to let my sym23athy spoil my appe- 
tite ; and two or three friends helped me stow the rations, 
which we washed down with healths to their eccentric 
but good-hearted owner. 



— 13 — 

I have mentioned the battle of Cedar Mountain. Among 
my letters I find very full accounts of this action, contain- 
ing some incidents which will, perhaps, be of interest. 
For the length of time the engagement lasted it was cer- 
tainly the bloodiest aff"air in which I participated during 
the entire war. We were under fire a little less than 
thirty minutes. In that time our regiment lost six offi- 
cers killed and mortally wounded, two wounded and 
taken prisoners, one a prisoner but not wounded, and 
four seriously wounded but still within our lines, and 
several others slightly wounded. Of 23 officers wlio led 
their men into action only seven came back unhurt. Of 
500 enlisted men 160 were killed, wounded or missing. 
On no other field, except that of Gettysburg, could our 
loss compare with this. 

Cedar Mountain is a steep hill rising from a com- 
paratively level plain on the Gordonsville and Culpepper 
Pike. Near the top is a house from which can be seen 
every rood of ground for many miles around. On the 
roof of this house Gen. Jackson was stationed, and with 
his glass swept every avenue of approach. He knew as 
accurately as Pope himself, the number and position of 
every command on the Federal side, and just what force 
to send against them. Upon our doomed brigade, con- 
sisting of three regiments, he hurled four brigades. They 
advanced obliquely on our right flank, so that when their 
center reached our right, their left far overlapped us 
and had already penetrated to our rear. Then we were 
subjected to a cross-fire, and it was that cross-fire that 
so rapidly swelled the list of casualties One officer of 
" ours " — Capt. Goodwin — had risen from a sick bed to 
lead his men into this battle. Just as the rebel lines 
turned our flank, volley after volley was poured into 
his company. Capt. Goodwin was instantly killed. 
His servant who was near him, stepped forward to take 
his body to the rear. He was killed and fell across the 
Captain's body. The First Sergeant then attempted 



— 14 — 

to get the body of the Captain. He, too, was instantly 
shot, and fell across the bodies of the Captain and his 
servant. A corporal and a private then renewed the 
effort to carry off the body, and they, too, fell dead 
across the other bodies. And there on the next day 
when we went to bury our dead the five bodies were 
found, one on top of the other, just as they had fallen. 

When the Colonel saw that the regiment was flanked 
he ordered us to fall back about 200 yards, and there we 
took up another position where we remained unmolested. 
While executing this backward movement the color 
sergeant discovered that the eagle which surmounted the 
color staff — a rich, heavily gold-plated one — had been 
shot off. He was already some distance from the place 
which had been occupied by our troops. But that eagle 
was not to be left to become a trophy for rebels. Leav- 
ing the colors with the color-guard, he retraced his steps, 
found the eagle, and brought it back in triumph. And 
for this heroic act he received his shoulder straps. 

There has been no little discussion as to which side 
won the victory in this engagement, or whether either 
side was victorious. I find in a letter Avritten the next 
day after the battle, some remarks on that point, which 
show the way I looked at it when everything was 
fresh in my mind. From this letter I quote : " For three 
reasons I say the enemy did not gain the victory. The 
first is that we were only driven back from our advanced 
position to that which we originally occupied, and we 
had given the enemy so severe a punishment that they 
did not dare follow us one foot. The second reason is 
the great loss inflicted upon the enemy. It was fully equal 
to, if not greater than, ours. I know it in several ways. 
One of our ofiicers, the Major, was mortally wounded. 
Yet the rebel surgeons said they had so much to do in 
taking care of their own wounded that they could not 
attend to him, and they had to send and get help from 
our side for him. Again, under a flag of truce our offi- 



— 15 — 

cers conversed with many of tlie rebel officers. One of 
the latter said that the rebel loss was not so great as 
ours, but that the Union men fought like devils. But 
another — Col. Jeff. Stuart, a classmate of Gordon's at 
West Point, by the way — said that it was the fiercest 
fight of the war, and that their loss was tremendous. (I 
remark here, parenthetically, that Lee's report makes 
the Confederate loss 229 killed and 1047 wounded — a 
total of 1276.) But the most convincing fact is that the 
enemy did not dare again attack us ; and what is more, 
asked an armistice to bury their dead, and during the 
armistice they drew off their whole army across the 
Rapidan River." 

Promotions were rapid in those days. "When I went 
into that fight I was fourth in rank of the 2nd Lieuten- 
ants. When I came out I was the sixth in rank of the 1st 
Lieutenants. I entered the action a mere filecloser. I came 
out in command of two companies. That happened in this 
way. During the thickest of the fight my Captain sent 
me to the Colonel with some information as to the ap- 
proach of a body of the enemy on our left. Just as I 
passed Company F, a terrific volley swept over the regi- 
ment, and the only officer of that company was badly 
wounded. As this left his company without an officer the 
Colonel ordered me to take command of it. Later in the 
action my Captain was wounded and fell into the hands 
of the enemy. So I had charge of my own company 
also." It was some two or three weeks afterwards be- 
fore there were enough line officers to allow one to each 
company. And as the empty tents flapping in the night 
wind called to mind our brother officers, some lying in 
soldiers' graves, some pining in southern prisons, a tinge 
of sadness colored our tlioughts. But such is war. 

At Gettysburg, also, our loss was heavy ; and there, 
too, it was quickly over. I was then serving on the staff 
of Gen. A. S. Williams, who, though only a Brigadier, in 
that battle commanded the Twelfth Army Corps. Towards 



— IB — 

the latter part of the forenoon of that day, Gen. Mead 
and all of his staff officers, together with a large number 
of general officers and their staffs, had gathered on a 
small rocky knob that rises abruptly a short distance to 
"the left of the pike leading to Gettysburg. All were in- 
tently watching the contest in which the right wing was 
then engaged. A regiment was seen to move from behind 
the breast- works and gallantly charge the strongest 
point in the enemy's position. For some twenty minutes 
the unequal contest was kept up. Then this regiment 
moved deliberately and with a perfect alignment to the 
rear, then by the left flank a few rods, again by the left 
flank into their original position. Here they knelt down 
and poured such a galling fire into the enemy which had 
started in pursuit, that the latter were glad to seek shelter. 
Every movement of the regiment had been executed with 
the precision and care of a review. From all sides I 
heard exclamations : Beautiful ! beautifully done ! 
What regiment is that? and like expressions. I had 
recognized the colors of my own regiment, and my heart 
swelled with pride to which I sought in vain to give 
utterance. 

But fearful had been the cost of that brilliant move- 
ment. It was a case, so common in warfare, of a mis- 
taken order. An order had been sent to the brigade 
commander to "feel the enemy " at the point indicated. 
When the message reached Col. Mudge, who was in com- 
mand of the Second, it had grown into an order to attack 
the enemy and carry his position. The young com- 
mander, for he was only twenty-three, gave a sharp 
glance at the Aide w^ho had repeated the dispatch, and 
with the quiet remark : " It's murder, but it's an order," 
gave the word to advance. Bravely he led his men on 
that forlorn hope. But he never came back. He fell 
while leading the charge ; and when the regiment returned 
it left with its commander on the bloody field 134 officers 
and men. Fortj^-four in every hundred had fallen. For 



— 17 — 

of the 22 officers and 294 men who were sent to that 
useless slaughter, only 182 returned unharmed. During 
the carnage five color-bearers in succession were shot 
down. But those colors never touched the ground. 
Before one nerveless hand had relaxed its gripe another 
had siezed tjie staff. And during the whole fight that 
flag which 1 had so proudly recognized was borne aloft by 
men who could die, but could never see their colors trail 
in the dust. No wonder one of the generals near me cried 
out in his enthusiasm : " I never saw a finer sight than 
that regiment coming back over that terrible meadow, 
facing about and forming in line as steady as though on 
parade." 

Among the officers who bore honorable wounds on 
that day, was Capt. Tom Fox. He was one for whom I 
entertained a warm regard, and our friendship was mu- 
tual. Our ages were almost equal, both having been 
born in February, 1839. We graduated from college • 
about the same time. When the war broke out we were 
both engaged in teaching, spending the hours not ap- 
propriated to school duties in studying law. Both of us 
had thrown our books aside to enter the service. He 
joined the regiment soon after I was commissioned 
Second Lieutenant, and from that time our intimacy 
dated. I met him shortly after the action on the 3d, and 
he was then in the best of spirits. He was proud of his 
regiment and of what it had done on that day. A ball 
had struck him in the ankle, inflicting what all supposed 
to be a slight wound. " I will go home," he cheerfully 
said to me, " and get a little rest and visit my friends. 
This thing will soon heal, and I will be back by the time 
the regiment shall be called into action again." I bade 
him good-bye, without a thought that I had seen him for 
the last time. But the wound was more serious than we 
imagined, and in just three weeks afterwards he died. 

As I look over these old letters, comical incidents are 
mingled with the sad. I find in one, written the day 



— 18 — 

before Antietam, an amusing account of the fainting of 
a man in the ranks. It was the day after the action at 
South Mountain. We were toiling up the steep roads 
that afford the only passage over the ridge, now winding 
around declivities, now attaining some vantage ground 
from which we had an unobstructed view for miles, 
and again plunging into thick woods which entirely 
shut out every prospect. Just as the road entered a 
small patch of trees near the summit of the mountain, 
a battery on the other side, and only about a quarter of 
a 'mile ahead, opened fire. As one gun after another 
boomed out, it seemed in that clear air as if we were 
directly upon it. Suddenly there fell upon our ears the 
sharp ringing sound of a musket striking upon rocks. 
As every eye turned in that direction there was seen the 
body of one of the most stalwart men in the command. 
He lay stretched out at full length on the macadam by 
the roadside, seemingly in a dead faint. One of the 
officers of his company approached him and gazed 
intently into his face. Then grasping him by the collar, 
with a vigorous jerk he brought him to his feet, and 
while he assisted him with his boot to retake his place 
in the ranks, he remarked in a tone that could be heard 
the entire length of the regiment: "The next time you 
want to faint, don't do it with red lips." It is needless 
to say the poor fellow never heard the last of that epi- 
sode ; and he was known to the close of the war as the- 
man-who-fainted-with-red-lips. 

One more incident, and I will not further tax your 
patience. The battle of Resaca, in Georgia, was fought 
in a very hilly and woody country. Ravines concealed 
by trees and heavy underbrush, led in almost every 
direction, and for this reason it was diflicult to find a 
position where our flanks were not more or less exposed. 
An Indiana battery had been placed at the mouth of one 
of these ravines, wiiere it commanded the ground over 
which the enemy must pass in advancing*, and there it 



— 19 — 

had done magnificent execution. Charge after charge 
of the rebels had been repulsed, and a large share of the 
credit was due to this battery. The enemy evidently 
came to the conclusion that those guns must be silenced 
at any cost. There was a slight depression on the left 
flank of the battery ; but the forest seemed so thick and 
impenetrable there that its Captain did not anticipate 
any trouble from that quarter. He reckoned without 
his host, however Late in the afternoon, while hotlj^ 
serving his guns, he was thunderstruck by an attack 
from the left and rear. His infantry support almost 
immediately gave way. There seemed nothing for it 
but that his Parrotts must go. The rebels sprang upon 
them with a yell, and before he could give the order to 
face about, the gray uniforms were swarming upon him. 
But Gen. Williams saw his predicament. The first brig- 
ade, which contained the Third Wisconsin, the Second 
Massachusetts and the Twenty-seventh Indiana, was 
near at hand and not engaged. The General rose in his 
stirrups, pointed to the endangered battery, and shouted : 
Save it, men. I have never seen a job done with more 
neatness and despatch. That old first brigade simply 
went for those guns. One tremendous volley was fired; 
and then without a shout or a sound, but with that ter- 
rible earnestness which seemed to render cheers a mock- 
ery, they charged upon the gray-coats. The battery 
was saved, and in a few moments was pouring cannister 
into the enemy's lines with, if possible, greater energy 
than before. But it was a treat to see that Captain. 
He ran up to the nearest regiment of the brigade, with 
his great long arms stretched to their utmost, and grasp- 
ing as many men as he could reach, he hugged and 
squeezed them to his bosom. Tears of joy ran down his 
face, and he almost sobbed out his incoherent Avords of 
thanks and praise. He said he had heard that the east- 
ern army could not fight. But it would not do for any 



— 20 — 

man to say tliat in Ms presence thereafter. From that 
event dated the fraternization between the troops who 
had been transferred from the Potomac and the men who 
had fought in the west, which during the long march to 
the sea became cemented into the closest friendship. 






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